William Cullen Bryant

William Cullen
Bryant
1794
1878

American Poet, Critic, Editor

Author Quotes

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings.

The breath of springtime at this twilight hour comes through the gathering glooms, and bears the stolen sweets of many a flower into my silent rooms.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; they rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrub the jay, and from the wood-top calls crow, through all the gloomy day.

The victory of endurance born.

Thou unrelenting past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, and fetters, sure and fast, hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.

Much has been said of the wisdom of old age. Old age is wise, I grant, for itself, but not wise for the community. It is wise in declining new enterprises, for it has not the power nor the time to execute them; wise in shrinking from difficulty, for it has not the strength to overcome it; wise in avoiding danger, for it lacks the faculty of ready and swift action, by which dangers are parried and converted into advantages. But this is not wisdom for mankind at large, by whom new enterprises must be undertaken, dangers met, and difficulties surmounted.

Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully.

The groves were God’s first temples.

The press, important as is its office, is but the servant of the human intellect, and its ministry is for good or for evil, according to the character of those who direct it. The press is a mill which grinds all that is put into its hopper. Fill he hopper with poisoned grain, and it will grind it to meal, but there is death in the bread.

Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.

War, like other situations of danger and of change, calls for the exertion of admirable intellectual qualities and great virtues, and it is only by dwelling on these, and keeping out of sight the sufferings and sorrows, and all the crimes and evils that follow in its train, that it has its glory in the eyes of man.

All that tread the globe are but a handful to the tribes that slumber in its bosom.

Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

Self-interest is the most ingenious and persuasive of all the agents that deceive our consciences, while by means of it our unhappy and stubborn prejudices operate in their greatest force.

Author Picture
First Name
William Cullen
Last Name
Bryant
Birth Date
1794
Death Date
1878
Bio

American Poet, Critic, Editor